Blind Date
by Bunnyapocalypse96
Summary: It's been eight months since Rose said goodbye to the Doctor at Bad Wolf Bay, and Jackie Tyler feels that her daughter's mourning period should now come to an end. To help her along, she arranges for Rose to go on a blind date.
1. Chapter 1

"Rose!"

The hand slammed down on the table, causing Rose to be startled out of her reverie. She seemed to be daydreaming a lot these days. Maybe because her imagination was a better place to be than her reality.

"Hmm?" she asked her mum.

She was over at the mansion for her compulsory Saturday afternoon visit. Dad had taken little Tony out for a stroll and she had been given the duty of checking that her mum was cooking something edible for lunch.

"This has got to stop, sweetheart," she said, looking at her daughter worriedly, "All this moping about—you're letting your life pass you by."

Rose had heard it all before. She sighed, preparing herself to recite the speech yet again, "I'm fine, Mum. I'm—coping. I just need some more time, is all."

"More time?" Jackie said incredulously, "Rose, it's been eight months! There comes a point when you have to move on."

Rose stared down at the kitchen table, feeling the tears in her eyes threatening to spill. As always, she pushed them down. She'd been crying far too much this past year. She looked up at her mother with hardened eyes.

"It's not that easy," she said quietly.

"I know it isn't," Jackie told her, "But that doesn't change the fact that you should. He's gone, sweetheart. He's not coming back this time."

Rose hated it when anyone talked about him. Luckily, people usually tiptoed around the subject when they spoke to her. Dad and Mickey never even mentioned it, but Mum was different. She chose moments like these, moments where she felt that she had Rose trapped, and then she would confront her about it. She would mercilessly state what the cold, hard truth was, and Rose didn't want to hear it.

She felt something inside of her snap.

"You're one to talk!" Rose exploded. She abruptly realised that she was on her feet. The tears were no longer just threatening to spill, "When Dad died, you _never_ moved on! You stayed in that flat for nineteen years! You didn't even try to find anyone else, because you knew that no relationship could ever measure up to what you had with him!" She paused to take a breath and steady herself, "Don't tell me to just forget about him," she said coldly, "because you know full well that I can't."

Then she bounded out of the room, leaving a dazed Jackie staring after her.

"Well, at least she's showing some emotion," she muttered before returning to the stove.

…

That day had gotten Jackie thinking on a way to help her daughter

Finally, she decided that it would be her mission to get Rose a man. She would be damned if her daughter ended up alone like her when she was older (though, of course, things had turned out fine in the end).

Things with Mickey quite obviously weren't falling back into place as Jackie might have hoped, but a small part of her always knew that this was less owing to the Doctor and more to the fact that Rose just preferred him as a friend. Poor bloke.

But Jackie wouldn't give up. She was determined to show Rose that there were plenty of handsome, clever fish in the sea. Fish who weren't immortal aliens.

That Saturday afternoon, two weeks after the confrontation, Jackie knew that she was going to get it from her daughter. She didn't care, though. She was Rose's mother and she always knew best.

"Mum?" Rose called into the empty foyer. She frowned; the whole family was usually there to greet her when she came to visit. She wondered whether her parents had taken Tony out for his stroll early.

"In here, dear!" a voice called from the living room.

It wasn't Mum's voice.

Even more curious, Rose moved to the spacious living area. When she entered, it was to find Mum and six of her closest friends (or, as Rose liked to call them, her "Posh Posse") enjoying some tea and biscuits while chattering away happily.

"Oh, darling, that shirt is to _die _for!" Ruth, Posh Posse ringleader, complemented her.

"Oh, umm, thanks," Rose said with a slightly forced smile. She looked at Jackie confusedly, "Mum, since when do you have tea with the girls on a Saturday?"

"I called them and told them that it was an emergency," Jackie said matter-of-factly. The other women all nodded along and made noises of affirmation. All of them were eyeing Rose worriedly. Something was definitely going on.

Rose got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What emergency?"

Esmerelda, famous socialite and highly-publicised philanthropist, gave her a sympathetic look. "Your mother told us everything, dear. We always thought there was something a little—well, off about you, but when Jackie told us about the whole business with you and your boyfriend, we were all _so_ taken aback."

"Older men always cause trouble," April, three-time Miss Britain and full-time trophy wife, nodded with understanding.

Rose was trying very hard not to strangle someone. "Mum," she said in a strained voice, "Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

"Of course," Jackie said, feigning innocence in a way only she could. She put her teacup down neatly on the little marble table beside the couch, "If you'll excuse me, ladies."

Rose towed her mother by the hand to a spot where she was sure she was out of earshot from the other gossip-girls. "What did you tell them?!" she whispered furiously, "No, hold on, wrong question— _Why_ did you tell them anything to begin with?!"

"Now, don't get your knickers in a twist!" Jackie told her, "I didn't tell them anything I shouldn't have. I just mentioned that you've been depressed over this older bloke for months now and that I was worried about you, seeing as you get so overly attached to people sometimes."

"_Overly attached_?!" Rose had to work very hard to keep her voice from shooting up three octaves in pitch, "I just got deferred to another universe and had to leave everything I knew, including the man I love, behind. I've been doing a bloody good job at having to start up my whole life from scratch, and now you're calling me out for being _overly attached_?!" All attempts at keeping her voice down were failing.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic!" Jackie shouted right back.

Ruth popped her head out from the doorway leading to the living room. "Everything alright in here?" she asked, her eyes growing interested at the thought of juicy gossip.

Jackie smiled at her reassuringly. "Everything's wonderful," she said, showcasing her newly whitened teeth, "I've just been telling Rose here about the blind-date that you were kind enough to set up for her."

Rose stared at her mother in horror. "_What_?" was all she could manage.

"Yeah," Jackie said with another pleasant smile, "I can't tell you how excited Rose is to be meeting up with your son," she walked over to where Ruth stood and nudged her against the shoulder, "Just imagine what a laugh it would be if we ended up being fellow parents-in-law!"

Ruth laughed in that posh-fake way, clapping her hands together in delight. "Oh, _marvellous_!" she exclaimed, "Hunter will be so pleased that you agreed! He's had quite an eye for you ever since you arrived, you know."

"Oh, is that so?" Jackie replied before Rose could protest, "Did you hear that, Rose? Well, I'll tell you he's definitely Rose's type, what with him being such an educated man and all. Did you know that Hunter graduated from Cambridge, Rose? Top of his class, too!"

Rose was shaking her head, trying desperately to find a way out of the terrible situation her mother had put her in, but it seemed that there was no escape. Jackie was already arranging a time and a place.

"How about tonight?" she pressed.

She knew that Rose didn't work on the weekends and that giving her as short notice as possible to come up with an excuse for not going was the way to go. Rose had gotten very good at fast thinking ever since travelling with the Doctor, after all.

"Alright, if it isn't too short noti—" Ruth started.

"It isn't," Jackie spoke over her, "She'll meet him at seven!"

…

And seven came.

"Now, you two can stay out as late as you want!" Jackie told her as she drove her to the fancy restaurant where she would be meeting Hunter. Rose contemplated opening the car door and jumping out to make her escape. The people in the movies usually seemed to survive when they did that…

The car stopped and Rose tried to reason with her mother one last time. "Mum—"

"No, none of that!" her mum hushed her, "I want you to be open to this new experience tonight. I want you to go out and actually enjoy yourself. Could you just do that for me, please?"

Rose looked at her mother. She knew that everything that she was doing was out of love. Her mum just hated seeing her unhappy so much. She thought that she was doing good, and maybe she was. Maybe it really was time that Rose moved on.

"I'll try," Rose told her earnestly, "I promise."

Jackie smiled and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I know you will."

She drove off, leaving Rose alone, staring at the fancy restaurant and armed only with her small clutch bag. "Well," she muttered to herself, "Let's do this."

She walked in and spotted him immediately. It was hard not to, what with half of the restaurant-goers staring at him. Of course, Rose knew his face. It had been on the cover of just about every magazine she came across these past few months.

Hunter Remington, the headings would read, heir to an empire.

The empire that the articles were referring to was Remington Incorporated, the media corporation that had taken the world by storm after Cybus Industries' shocking downfall. The media loved Hunter for his status as being both devilishly handsome and, apparently, having a heart of gold.

When he spotted her by the door, Hunter smiled brightly. He was quite handsome, it was true. He had dark hair, green eyes and a slightly olive-toned pallor. It was appealing, but it wasn't as though he was a skinny, coat-wearing genius with really, really great hair.

Rose shook her head; she had to be open to this new experience. She'd promised Mum that she would be.

"Ah, Miss Rose Tyler," Hunter said charmingly, "You look absolutely ravishing."

She allowed him to take her coat for her, giving him what she hoped was an eager smile. "Not looking too bad yourself," she replied wryly.

They went over to their table and he pulled out her chair for her. Rose was a little impressed by this; none of the men that had been in her life thus far had been particularly gentlemanly. The Doctor had tried to be on occasion, but etiquette usually flew out the window when one was running for one's life.

The entire evening through, Hunter was perfectly friendly and charming. By the end of the first hour of their date, Rose understood why the magazines were making such a fuss about him; on top of being the future CEO of a major corporation, he was also actually a really nice guy.

Rose enjoyed speaking to him. They talked about a lot of unimportant things: Vacation spots, hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colours—they never delved into any form of deeper conversation. He never asked her about her past or about how she was feeling, and Rose appreciated that. It had been a long time since she had simply just had a nice chat.

When she looked at her watch, it was already ten o' clock. They'd been talking for three hours!

With a bout of shock, Rose realised something else. She hadn't thought of the Doctor once in the three hours that she had spoken with Hunter.

Suddenly, Rose was excusing herself from the table and rushing to the nearest ladies' room. She reached the bathroom and found it completely empty. She rushed in and started splashing her face with water. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, there were tears in her eyes.

She'd forgotten about him. For just those three short hours, she'd completely forgotten to be miserable about not being with him. She was horrified with herself, feeling the guilt roll over her body in waves. Was that all it took? Just another pretty face and then everything was fine again?

She couldn't believe that she could have done such a thing.

She pulled out her new, high-tech cell phone and punched in the number of the only person who would be dependable in a situation like this. "Mickey," she said when he picked up, "I need you to come get me."

"Rose?" he could hear the distress in her voice, "Why? What's the matter?"

"Just—please."

She felt bad for having to excuse herself with Hunter. She told him that she was feeling ill, which wasn't entirely a lie. True to form, Hunter excused her graciously, even offering to drive her home himself. She told him that she already had a ride and then agreed half-heartedly to Hunter's plans for them to meet up for another date, knowing that she wouldn't really be able to deal with a similar situation again.

When Mickey rolled up, he was looking at her concernedly. "You alright?" he asked her as she got into the car.

Rose didn't answer. She leaned her head against the passenger-seat window as Mickey pulled away, looking out into the darkness of the night.

"I don't know what to do, Mickey," she finally said.

Mickey looked at her briefly, noticing how her eyes had closed and how troubled her expression was, before returning his gaze to the road. "How do you mean?" he asked her softly.

"It's like—" Rose paused, trying to think of an accurate description, "It's like, before I met the Doctor, I was relatively happy with my life. I went to work, spent time with you lot and went back home every day, and it was good. I hadn't thought there was anything wrong with me before, and there wasn't, but when I travelled with him I became _better_. I was _fulfilled_," she sighed, and blinked back any emotion that betrayed how broken she felt inside, "When he—left me, I didn't turn back into that old Rose Tyler, the pre-Doctor Rose. He left me as someone who'd felt what it was like to truly be happy, just to have that feeling taken away."

As Mickey drove, the flashing lights running across Rose's face revealed the sparkling tears in her eyes. "And it was too soon," she said quietly.

The car stopped in front of Rose's apartment building. Mickey turned to look at her. "I should probably tell you that you ought to move on," he said, "That you should forget about him and try to be with someone else. Hell, a year ago I would've told you that you should be with me," Mickey shook his head and gave a small smile, "but I'm not going to tell you to do that."

Rose frowned. She didn't know what Mickey was getting at. "Why?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Mickey pulled a small object from his pocket, holding it up for Rose to see. She looked at it quizzically. "Is that my old phone?"

"It is," Mickey grinned, "the Doctor gave it to me to help take down Cybus Industries."

He got out of the car and moved around to Rose's side. There, he opened her door for her. She got out of the car, still confused, and Mickey handed her the phone.

"Dial 100," he told her.

Without another word, Mickey got back in his car and drove away. Rose stared at the car until it became invisible in the distance. She looked down at the old phone in her hand curiously.

Once inside her small studio-apartment (with just enough room for the bare necessities), Rose went to sit by the miniscule dining table. She hesitated for only a moment before dialling the 100 number that Mickey had told her to dial.

She waited for two seconds, only to get an automated answer from the other side of the line. "You have 25 new voice messages," it told her.

"Blimey," she breathed, "I forgot about those." Heart pounding, she pressed 1 to listen to the first voice message.

"Rose, it's me," a Northern accent spoke, "Just calling to tell you to _hurry up_. I want to get going. Tell Jackie to shut up and let you leave, already."

The message ended with a beep. Rose only had a moment of stunned awe at getting to hear that voice again before hitting the button to play the second message as fast as was humanly possible.

"Rose," the irritated Northern accent said, "It's been an hour!"

Rose smiled as the beep signalled the end of the message once again. He was such an impatient person. Especially in that form. These messages must have been during the period of time in which he stayed in the TARDIS while she visited her mum. After a while, though, he had learned that he could better hurry her along when he came up to the flat with her.

She listened to a few more messages of the leather-clad Doctor that she had met first. Most of them consisted of him nagging her to come back to the TARDIS after visiting the Powell Estate or enquiring where she had wandered off to this time. Then, around message twelve, the voice changed. This voice had an estuary-English accent and spoke at about ninety miles per hour.

"Rose," the first message said, "I need you to come back to the TARDIS. I'm in a bit of a—situation."

Rose chuckled to herself when she heard the message. That had been the day the Doctor had gotten himself so tangled in the wires beneath the console room that he had to be physically cut out of the framework. By her, naturally.

Rose stopped laughing and became silent. That had been her first real laugh in eight months.

She continued to listen to the wonderful messages. They had all been so mundane at the time, but now they were all she had left of him. She was so happy to be able to hear his voice again after all these months, to be reminded of all the wonderful memories she had had with him.

Finally, she came to message number twenty-five. The message was dated later than the others. Much later. It was dated to have been received after that horrible day of their farewell at Bad Wolf bay.

"Rose," she heard him say. His voice was heavier than in the other messages. He sounded older, "I don't know if you'll ever get this message. I hope you do—well, more than hope, actually. I knew that Mickey still had your old phone and I—I had to try _something_. So, right," he cleared his throat, "I miss you every day. The TARDIS isn't the same without you. I was side-tracked for a bit right after you left, but since then I've been alone. It's been a few months relative time, I think, and it's been absolutely miserable. I wish I could talk to you. Just once. Just to tell you how much I—"

He went silent. The quiet on the other side of the line stretched on for so long that Rose pulled the phone from her ear at one point to check if the message was still playing.

Finally, though, he spoke again. "I'm going to get you back, Rose," he said, determination colouring his voice, "If it's the last thing I do, I'll find you. I won't give up."

The beep signalling the end of the message sounded.

Rose lifted the phone slowly from her ear and stared at it. For the first time in what felt like forever, some new emotion was cropping up inside of her.

Hope.

"Not if I find you first," she said quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: So, to make up for the fact that **_**Stranger**_** is a little slow-going this week, I'm posting the second chapter to this fic early! Don't forget to review and tell me what you think!**

**Hope you like it! :)**

…

When she got up for work that Monday morning, it was with a renewed sense of purpose.

For so long now, living had felt like a mechanical action for Rose. Just take it one action at a time, she would tell herself, just keep on doing the actions until the day was through. Just work through every day until the week was through. Until a month had passed. She had hoped, prayed that doing this would eventually make things easier. That she would eventually be able to spend that single action, that single day and maybe even that whole week without thinking about him.

As it turned out, what she had really needed all along was to think about him even more.

And she was. She thought about him during every second that she got dressed, ate breakfast and brushed her teeth before going to work. The voice-messages, after listening to their wondrous sound again a few times on Sunday, had gotten her to thinking; the Doctor had managed to get a message through to her, though she didn't know if he was aware of it. That implied, she hoped, that the line between them could go both ways. She would therefore potentially be able to get a message through to him, too.

If the message worked, how far could the leap be to her being able to cross over?

Before leaving, she briefly noticed the small, flashing light on her answering machine. She sighed, anxious to get to work and run her plans by some colleagues, but pressed the play-button on the machine all the same.

She sighed when she heard her mum shouting on the other side of the line. The woman really had no concept of an inside voice. "'Ere what's this I hear about you leaving Hunter high and dry last night? Honestly Rose, you said you'd be open to the new experience!" She sighed and her voice softened, "I know it's hard, sweetheart. I know that I'm not really one to talk what with me having been so fickle about your father once upon a time—but if it wasn't for me being very, very lucky I would've probably ended up dying alone because of my stubbornness. I don't want that for you, Rose. Right, so call me as soon as you get this. I love you."

Rose deleted the message. She wasn't going to deal with all of that right now, thanks. She would call her mum when she was good and ready, which would decidedly be several hours and maybe even a glass of chardonnay later.

Right now, there were more important matters to deal with.

…

"Morning Mindy," Rose greeted her partner as she entered the office. Working at the Torchwood of this universe, every employee was paired up with a partner on their first day. Rose didn't know if it was just wishful thinking on her part, but she had an idea that this concept was greatly inspired by the Doctor and his constant need for companions. Even in parallel universes where he technically didn't exist, he still seemed to be able to influence people.

Anyhow, on her first day, Rose had been paired up with Mindy, a stocky, red-headed Irishwoman. She was nice enough at the best times and had come very highly recommended by the higher-ups at Torchwood, but Rose could feel that there was, and would always be, a strong competitiveness between the two of them.

There was Rose, having racked up some of the most extensive experience in her field (abnormal extraterrestrial field investigation or AEFI, as the department was referred to) and surpassing even the department heads in the amount of street-smarts she had on aliens.

Then there was Mindy Shaw, arguably the Torchwood operative with the most knowledge of alien species, history and general know-how that the organisation had ever seen.

This made for Rose and Mindy to be quite the team, obviously, but it also made for a tense partnership that would likely never result in any forming of unlikely friendships.

They tried to remain on civil grounds for the most part, though.

"Coffee?" Mindy asked her, pouring herself some while she spoke.

"Sure," Rose said.

Conversations between them usually didn't dig much deeper than this. Not unless they were talking about work, at least. Or the Doctor.

Rose still felt her fingers flex tensely at the thought of the memory. It had been only her second day and she and Mindy had gotten off to a good start. That had all changed when Mindy had made mention of the fact that she thought Rose better off for having left the Doctor, though.

_Left _him! As though she had a choice in the matter!

Deep down, Rose knew that Mindy had meant it as a consolation, but at the time it had been only a month since she'd said goodbye to him. Not even Mum was brave enough to mention him around her at that time. It had been such a raw wound that Rose would take a personal moment for any passing remark that would be made about the Doctor. That was why Mindy's words had hurt her so much. That was why she hadn't quite forgiven her for it yet.

"So," Rose smiled as her partner placed the cup of coffee on her desk, "Anything interesting for us to investigate today?"

"Not if you count out that Weevil mating season starts today," she said while absently staring at her computer monitor. She pushed the file in question onto Rose's desk.

"Ugh," Rose groaned, flipping through the file, "Can't we pass this on to some rookies?"

Mindy grinned. "My thoughts exactly," she said, "But I hope you don't mind that that leaves us unusually low on work for the day, though."

"I actually prefer it," she replied, "I've got some things that need doing today. People to see and the like." She was already heading for the door.

"Well, don't let me stop you," Mindy waved a dismissive hand and her eyes were already being drawn back to her computer screen. Then, abruptly, she dropped the gesture and looked at Rose once more, "How did your date with Hunter Remington go Saturday night, by the way?"

"What?" Rose asked dumbly. She hadn't told anyone about that. Least of all Mindy, "How'd you know about that?

"It's all over the Tabloids," she said matter-of-factly, "People are calling you two a power couple."

Rose suppressed an eye-roll. Of course they would be in the Tabloids. Why not? They were both upper-crusters, after all.

On the list of things that Rose didn't like about this universe ( its evident lack of Doctor being at the top, of course), her sudden new-found celebrity came in at a close second. From the moment that her dad had made public the news that his long-lost daughter had found her way back to their family, the paparazzi had been following her like the plague.

Her story was a tear-jerker: Rose Tyler, the girl who had been sent into the foster-care system as a baby owing to her parents' financial woes. Rose Tyler, the girl who had spent her whole life wondering who her parents were and why they would leave her in such a place. Rose Tyler, the girl who, at age twenty, found her way back to her parents. Finally, Rose Tyler would be living the life in the lap of luxury she deserved.

The papers simply ate it up.

The story, a little dramatic in Rose's taste, had been her mum's idea. She was extremely proud for having come up with it, and Rose just didn't have the heart to tell Jackie that her creative idea was suspiciously similar to the plot of _Annie_. Mum had been obsessed with that film at one point.

The point was that Rose didn't like all the attention. It had been one of the reasons that she had moved out of her parents' house to begin with. Initially, her parents had wanted to buy her a nice pent-house flat in Knightsbridge, but she had declined the offer. The press would never expect to find her in a match-box flat in Peckham, after all.

In all her contemplating, Rose hadn't realised that she'd already passed her destination. She stopped with an exasperated sigh at herself and backtracked until she was standing by the door to the DET (Department of extraterrestrial technology). She did a retinal scan, knowing that her full clearance would open any door.

When she entered the large hanger, the detas (engineers and whatnot that worked in the department) were crowding excitedly in a corner of the large space. Rose spotted Mickey at the back of the crowd and walked over to meet him curiously.

"What's going on?"

Mickey turned and gave her a grin. "Morning to you, too, Miss future-Mrs.-Remington. Have you picked out a dress yet?"

"Oh, God," Rose paled, "How bad was that Tabloid story?"

"Well, I can tell you that there's a poll running where people are suggesting baby names," Rose could see that he was trying very hard not to laugh, "and there're rumours that they're betting on a date for the wedding around the office."

Rose groaned. "I did _not _sign up for this."

The detas suddenly gave an excited cheer. Mickey spun around, back to what everyone was looking at, shouting "What? What did I miss?"

"Why are you all bunched up here?" Rose inquired again.

"New shipment of the Cryo-technic gadgets salvaged from that Krillitane ship you brought down last week," he told her while craning his neck above his colleagues' heads to get a better look, "Blimey, a freeze ray! Who do these Krillitanes think they are, Batman?"

"Well, to be fair, they did kind of look like bats," Rose smiled.

Mickey turned back to look at her. "Now Rose Tyler, did I misunderstand or did you just crack a joke?" he grinned, "You listen to the messages, then?"

"Yeah," she laughed. She stopped and looked at him gratefully, "Thanks for that, by the way. I really needed it." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and had the pleasure of watching him blush ever so slightly.

"S'nothing," he waved her off, "Just thought you could use a little pick-me-up after having to spend the entire evening with Prince Fancy-Pants."

"He wasn't that bad, actually," she came to Hunter's defence, "To be honest, he was really quite nice. And handsome." She said the last sentence with a cheeky grin that had her tongue sticking out ever so slightly.

Mickey knew that she was just trying to get a rise out of him, but it got to him all the same. His eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying there might be some truth to the rumours then, Miss Tyler?" he asked her, mimicking an inquiring paparazzo perfectly, "And would your previous beau have any comment on that?"

"Mickey, you know I wouldn't—" her eyes fell to the floor and Mickey was instantly sorry that he had teased her, "You know I'm not going to let anything—happen between us. Not with him still out there."

Mickey knew Rose too well not to notice that she had more to tell him. He took her by the shoulders and led them away from the crowd. "What's up?" he asked, stopping them in the quieter opposite corner of the room.

"You didn't listen to those voice messages on my old phone, did you?" she asked.

Mickey shook his head. "Only the first one," he told her, "When I heard it was him talking, I knew that I should give you back the phone—that you would want to hear his voice and that."

Rose felt touched that Mickey would do something like that for her, but she didn't linger long on the feeling as she moved on to more important matters. "So you didn't listen to the last voicemail he left me, then?"

"No," Mickey shook his head, curiosity filling his eyes. What was she getting at?

"Mickey," Rose took a deep breath, "the Doctor tried to call me after we said goodbye on the beach. I didn't answer and it went to voicemail, but it got through. I think he may have a direct line to me across the universes through that phone and he doesn't even know it."

Mickey stared. "That's impossible," he conceded, "How could that even be? Phones are connected to towers that connect you to other phones. There are no towers connecting our universe with the other one."

"Yeah, but the Doctor did something to my phone when we started travelling together so that it operated outside of relative time," Rose explained to him, "So that I could talk to you lot while we were staying over somewhere in medieval Bulgaria or running around on some space station in the future and so. I think he tweaked the phone to work better than he thought it would, though."

"The perks of being Rose Tyler," Mickey said in a sing-song voice, "Better cell reception—free wifi too, no doubt."

Rose punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Oi, don't get off topic," she told him, "I was thinking that, because he got through, the connection could possibly be able to go both ways. And if I can get a message through to him—tell him that there's a way for us to communicate with each other—well, maybe we could work together to come up with a way for me to get back between us."

She was barely containing her excitement at the thought of this new plan. She couldn't believe how good it sounded when she said it. It sounded as though it might actually work.

"You know what?" Mickey said as a small smile started playing on his lips, "I think you might have a plan there. Yeah, I think we can actually make it work!"

Rose couldn't help laughing in delight. "Well, let's get to researching it then!" she proclaimed, "I reckon we could use some of that alien technology you lot have all nicely tucked away in the DET-hanger."

"I'll go check," he said, starting to walk away.

"Oh, Mickey?" Rose called him back.

Mickey stopped after a few paces and turned back to face her. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she said with a grin, "I did have free wifi."


	3. Chapter 3

It took two weeks of intense focus for them to make any progress. During that time, it was all Rose thought about.

Much to Mindy's irritation, of course.

"Try boosting the signal," Rose was instructing Mickey over the phone. She listened to him telling her that they had already tried that ten times now, "Well, do it again! He was probably calling from the console when he called me, yeah? So, we just need to boost the signal enough for it to have the same transmission power the TARDIS used."

"Rose!" Mindy called over her shoulder.

Rose looked up just in time to see a Sontaran fire a shot her way. "I'll call you back," she told Mickey before pressing the "end call" button and ducking for cover. Mindy was already there.

"Stop playing around, Rose!" she told her angrily, "This is serious business we're busy with here!"

Rose took a deep breath and willed the murderous thoughts running through her mind at Mindy's words away. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't engage in any fighting with her partner this week. She'd gotten into a fair amount of trouble after having gotten so in her face last week, after all.

Served her right, though, her telling Rose that she shouldn't try to get back to the Doctor like that. From what she knew about him, she reckoned that he'd already gotten himself someone new anyway, she'd said. It just wasn't realistic for her to try and get back with someone she could never really be with, she'd told her.

Sufficed to say, Rose had promptly snapped and given Mindy the telling off of her life. She couldn't exactly remember what her argument had been, but she did remember that it had been laced with a fair amount of profanities and insults.

There were definitely no possibilities for forming of unlikely friendships now.

Rose briefly peeked out from their hiding place behind the wall to see where that pesky Sontaran had gotten to. Even though things were so heated between her and Mindy at the moment, they still had a job to do. She knew that much.

The job for the day was an "extrication mission".

That was basically fancy Mindy-speak for, as the Doctor would put it, getting the alien the hell off this planet. Luckily, today's subject was just a lone Sontaran. Probably a scouting mission, she reckoned. It shouldn't have been difficult to take care of it.

But Rose's heart just wasn't in it.

"Do we have a view of the back of its neck yet?" Mindy asked tiredly. They'd been at this for six hours now.

"Yeah," Rose said, spotting the target in question. She raised her stun-gun slowly, "I think I may just be able to take the shot."

"You sure about that?" Mindy muttered.

Rose rolled her eyes, but didn't lower the gun. "Well, I'm our best bet," she murmured while locking her eyes onto the target, "_You're_ useless with guns."

Mindy muttered something unintelligible in reply that sounded suspiciously like "Well, _you're _just useless". Nonetheless, Rose took the shot and was rewarded with a satisfying hissing sound as she hit the mark.

"Wonder if the Doctor would approve," she said to herself, grinning as she went over to the now unconscious Sontaran. She kneeled beside him and checked for a pulse, "We should take him back to HQ and wait for him to wake up. Then we can tell him to leave the planet and warn others of his kind against coming here."

Mindy looked down at the alien with disdain. "Or we could just kill it," she suggested, "It's clean and efficient. We wouldn't have to worry about containing it."

"No," Rose said, getting to her feet and looking at Mindy adamantly, "That's not how it works. Killing it would just make the other Sonatarans come faster and besides," she folded her arms, "that would be wrong."

"That something the Doctor taught you?" she asked innocently.

Rose ignored the passive aggressiveness in her voice. "Something I taught him, actually," she said just as innocently.

…

When they got back to the office, Sontaran in tow, Mickey was waiting at Rose's desk. Well, waiting in the sense that he was trying to beat her high score at computer pinball. Again.

"I told you," Rose grinned and perched herself on the desk, "You're never gonna do it."

Just as she said it, the little virtual pinball rolled off the screen, signalling that the game was over. Mickey groaned. "Would've gotten it that time if you hadn't distracted me," he implored.

"Oh, come off it!" Rose laughed.

Mickey looked up from the screen and smiled. "I've got some news for you, actually."

Excitement glinted in her eyes. "Good news?" she inquired.

Mickey looked at her in silence for a moment, enjoying watching the anticipation build up on her face. Finally, he grinned. "Yeah."

She practically did a jig of joy, jumping off the desk and moving in to envelope him in a hug. "You got it working?' she asked as she pulled back, "I can call him?"

"Looks like it, yeah. We still have to test it out, though."

"Well, what are we standing around here for, then?" Rose pulled Mickey up out of the chair and started hurrying him into the hallway, "Come on!" She grabbed his hand and practically sprinted to the DET.

Entering the hanger, Rose's eyes widened upon seeing the vast amount of machinery that had been set up around the room. At least a hundred detas were working and talking and charting around the complicated contraptions that all surrounded the focal point of the space. Looking hilariously anti-climactic, her old phone lay on a table in the centre of the room.

"All this is for a phone call?" she asked in awe.

"Well," Mickey came to stand beside her, taking in his surroundings proudly, "It's a very important phone call."

A middle-aged, balding man came over to meet them, holding out a hand towards Rose and looking more than a little flustered. "Miss Tyler," he said with an anxious smile, "It's an honour to finally meet you. My name is Dr. Chris Morrison. I'm the head researcher on the project."

Rose smiled, taking his hand. "Nice to meet you, too," she told him, "So, I take it you're the one I have to thank for making all of this possible?"

"Oh, well," he blushed, "There's no need for that, really—I mean, had you and your family not existed, my theorisation on trans-dimensional travel would have forever just stayed theories," he gave a disbelieving laugh as he gestured around him, "Now I'm actually involved in the world's very first trans-dimensional phone call!"

"Well, thank you," she told him earnestly, "Honestly, this is—it's amazing." She could feel a small lump rising in her throat and decided to cut off the conversation there. It wouldn't be very good for her reputation as a big, tough field operative if she started blubbering in front of everyone.

Mickey motioned her over, picking up her old cell phone and holding it out to her. She took it from him, hearts beating at a frantic pace.

"Ready?" he asked her.

Rose nodded, dialling the TARDIS's number and lifting the phone to her ear.

"Turning on receivers," someone said behind her.

The line started ringing. Rose could feel the little jolt of excitement her body gave upon hearing the sound.

It rang for a minute.

Two minutes.

Three.

The entire room was deathly quiet.

"Transmission in three," one of the detas announced quietly.

Rose wondered what she would say to him if he answered. Would she try to be casual? Just tell him hello? Maybe she should say something clever, she thought to herself; he'd appreciate her trying to do that.

"Two," the deta said.

The most likely scenario was that she would probably just start crying when she heard his voice. Having the opportunity to _really_ speak to him again after all this time—the moment would just be too much for her.

The only thing that she knew for certain was that she was going to tell him that she loved him; that she still thought about him every moment of every day and that she refused to give up on getting back to him. She hoped upon hope that he would then reply with the same.

"One."

The line stopped ringing and Rose heard someone pick up on the other side. Her mouth went completely dry.

"Hello?" a voice said.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose felt her heart drop into her feet.

It wasn't him. It wasn't his voice. The person speaking on the other side of the line was a woman.

This made her feel even worse.

Suddenly, Rose was panicking. The horrified thought kept hitting against the walls of her mind like a trapped boulder. Had he really found someone else? Had he really forgotten about her already? Had Mindy been right about him?

"Hello?" the voice repeated.

She had to seize the opportunity nonetheless. Even if he didn't feel the same way, she might never get to speak to him again.

"Umm, hello," Rose said awkwardly, "Who's speaking at the moment?"

"It's Amy," the voice said slowly. She had a Scottish accent.

Great, Rose thought ruefully. She was probably beautiful and ginger, too.

"Well, er, Amy—"

Rose got cut off by a voice shouting from far off in the background. "Amy! Who are you talking to in there?"

It wasn't his voice.

Abruptly, a new fear arose in Rose's mind.

She felt her chest constrict as she asked the question. "Who was that?"

"Aren't you supposed to know who it is?" Amy asked her uncertainly, "You're the one that called here, after all."

Rose ignored the question. "Is there anyone else there with you?" she was painfully aware of how desperate she sounded.

"No," Amy said,"it's just us—as far as I know."

"Oh," Rose let out a sigh in a whoosh of breath. With it, she felt all her hope crumble into a little heap of ash in her stomach. She could feel tears stinging in her eyes, "I'm sorry. I—I think I may have dialled the wrong number."

Without another word, she took the phone from her ear and pressed the "end call" button.

She looked around her at the silent, wide-eyed detas. Her eyes found Mickey's face. He was looking back at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Rose," he told her.

"We tried," she said softly, trying to clear away the moisture in her eyes with her fingers, "That's what's important. At least we tried."

Mickey came up to her and pulled her into a hug. "And we'll keep trying," he assured her, "I promise."

After the harshly disappointing trial, Rose decided to walk back to her flat instead of taking the bus. She was usually hesitant to walk the London streets on her own, what with the paparazzi stalking her every waking moment, but today was a day for fresh air. She just needed a chance to breathe it in deep and recuperate.

Ignoring the gawking strangers she encountered on the way, she reflected on all the good things that had come out of their first trial.

Point one: She'd been assured that, although they hadn't managed to contact the man of the hour, the call had still made it across universal borders. Her heart had gone out to poor Dr. Morrison, who had been apologising to anyone who would listen and was probably now going over the calculations he'd made for the project frantically.

"I just don't understand how we could have missed the mark," he'd told her sadly at one point, "I was _so_ sure I'd traced the correct signal."

So, at least they knew that inter-dimensional communication was possible. That was a huge step in the right direction.

Now it was just a question of diving into the haystack and finding the teeny, tiny needle that was the Doctor.

Point two, she continued in her mind begrudgingly, not allowing any negative thoughts to impact her: There was no evidence that the Doctor had already forgotten about her. Yet.

Granted, this point was mostly hypothetical, seeing as she hadn't actually managed to come into contact with him in the end, but it still counted.

She knew how selfish it was of her to even be thinking about it. She knew full well that she had no right to treat him as though she had some sort of ownership over him, or as though she was being fair in hoping that he still thought about her as much as she thought about him.

But imagining him finding someone else; jetting off with another, maybe prettier than her, girl and never mentioning her again—well, it broke her heart. It did. More than a thousand Reinettes ever could.

As she passed a smattering of newsstands, she caught sight of her face printed on the cover of every major Tabloid. The headings above her and Hunter's heads screamed out in bold, sensational letters: "Vitex Heiress Shacks up with Future Media Mogul!", "A Fairytale ending for Local Cinderella!", "London It-girl now one half of Newest Power Couple!"

She sighed as she looked at the pictures of her and Hunter that had been taken without their permission. Hearing the clicking of cameras at her back, she suspected that her looking at herself and Hunter in the Tabloids was to be tomorrow's front page runner.

And on and on it went.

Not for the first time, she wondered what the Doctor would make of her new-found fame. It brought a little smile to her face, thinking about how mortified he would be if the Tabloids were to run an image of him and her with a big "Power Couple" headline stamped on top.

If the paparazzi had started hearing wedding bells after seeing her and Hunter eating together through a restaurant window, she dreaded to think what they might say about Rose and the Doctor's incessant public hand-holding and hugging.

Honestly, she wouldn't have minded if the Tabloids had called them a power couple. That was what they'd been in the end. To her, at least. Even before there was a suggestion of anything romantic between the two of them, they'd been a great pair. A great team. They'd just—_clicked_.

She finally reached the flat and fled for cover from the flashing lights that pursued her. She once again felt a bout of gratefulness that she'd found an apartment so far off-chart for a member of London's well-to-do; in her mum and dad's neighbourhood, the press was just about a thousand times harder to evade.

At least these papos backed off once you were inside your home.

When she reached the second storey of her building where her flat was situated, Rose found that her mother was waiting for her outside her door.

"Mum? What are you doing here?"

Jackie pulled her into a brief hug before getting straight down to business. "You've not been answering my calls all week," she said.

Rose sighed. "I've been busy, Mum. You know, with work and that."

"Yeah, I know. You're always busy."

She frowned at her mother. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jackie gave a small shrug and Rose expected her mum to just drop the snide remark there with a huff like she usually did. Instead, however, her mum looked up to meet her gaze solemnly. "I'm worried about you, sweetheart."

"You're always worried about me," Rose replied.

"Of course I am. I'm your mother."

She felt her heart soften slightly at her mum's words and softly swiped a few stray hairs out of Jackie's eyes. "I'm really sorry that I'm worrying you, Mum," she told her, "But keeping busy has really been helping me. I've been feeling better every day because of it."

"That's just 'cause you've been thinking about him non-stop the entire time," she said quietly, "And, Rose, that's not healthy. You can't love a ghost for the rest of your life."

"He's not a ghost!" she snapped before she could stop herself. Seeing Jackie widen her eyes at her, she took a deep breath and tried again. "He's not a ghost," she repeated more calmly, "He's out there somewhere, and he's looking for a way to get back to me. And it'll be easier for us to do that if I try to get back to him on this side, too."

Her mum just shook her head.

"Why are you standing out here in the cold anyway?" Rose changed the subject. She noticed that her mum was rubbing at her bare arms and shivering slightly, "You've got a spare key to the flat."

"Well," she replied, casting her eyes guiltily into a faraway corner.

"Mum?" Rose prompted with a raised eyebrow.

She moved her guilty gaze from the corner to the door to the flat.

Rose didn't need to be told twice. Without another word, she moved past her mother and opened the already unlocked door. As she entered the flat, her eyes caught sight of what her mum had been hiding and she gave a gasp.

"Well," Jackie said again from behind her. She cleared her throat awkwardly, "I'll just—leave you to it, then."

Then she made a speedy getaway.

This left Rose alone, in the tiny foyer of the flat, staring at the thousand rose petals sprinkled across the floor.

Roses for Rose. Very original.

Hunter quickly got up from his seat at the candlelit dining table, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I swear," he told her, "This was your mother's idea."


	5. Chapter 5

He seemed sincere, at least.

Rose didn't have the fight in her to protest to Hunter's unwanted presence in her house. As she stood, watching the overt and absolutely fake display of romance in her flat, all she felt was tired.

So very tired.

So, instead of saying anything, Rose ignored her suitor completely and slumped into the nearest chair she could find, happening upon one by the dining table. She brushed some of the rose petals from the table and rested her elbows in their place. Her head sagged into her hands, her fingers rubbing at her temples in tiny circles.

After a moment of silence, she heard the sound of a chair scraping across from her.

"What's the matter, Rose?"

His tone startled her into looking up. As she did, what she saw on Hunter's face wasn't anger or hurt at her rejection, but honest, genuine sympathy. She almost found herself replying to him; almost told him everything, but bit her tongue at the last moment.

He shouldn't know.

"I want to know," Hunter told her, as though he'd read her thoughts. He reached across the table, taking one of her hands.

Automatically, Rose recoiled.

It sounded silly, juvenile even, but she hated it when people tried to hold her hand. None of them were him. They had no right to try to fill those empty spaces between her fingers with hands that weren't his.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she mourned the loss of this part of her. Her warmth and willingness to touch and get close to people. Since her deferral to Pete's World, she'd become cold and detached towards almost everyone. Even towards her family in some respects.

She frowned to herself. The Doctor wouldn't have wanted that.

It was this thought that drove her to suppress her instincts and to hesitantly reach out for Hunter's hand once again. She gave his hand a little squeeze, but didn't allow their fingers to entwine. One step at a time, she told himself.

She looked up into his green eyes and shamefully almost burst into tears upon seeing the look that lay there. That soft concern for her that she'd seen so often in another pair of eyes. Blue eyes then deep brown eyes. It was warm and timid and affectionate all at the same time.

"What's wrong?" he asked her again softly.

And for just a moment, Rose pretended that he could console her. In that instant, she told herself that maybe she could fall in love again. Maybe she and Hunter could have something worthwhile in the end. Maybe he'd make her forget…

"No," she said out loud. Her voice was so firm that he dropped her hand with a frown.

Rose looked at the space that had formed between her and Hunter's hands and felt thankful for it. Her behaviour towards him was decidedly atrocious, she knew that much, but she was grateful for the literal and figurative distance that she was currently instilling between them.

It was better this way. She'd only hurt him by trying to get close to him in the end, anyway. When she found the Doctor and left this world for good.

"I'm sorry, Hunter, but I think maybe you should—"

"Go?" Hunter started getting up. He gave her a small, sad smile, "Yes, I think that that may be a good idea."

Something in his expression tugged ever so slightly at her heartstrings, but Rose simply nodded at his words and stood to accompany him to the door.

Reaching the exit, Hunter briefly turned to look at her. The look turned into a kiss, happening so quickly that Rose barely had a chance to protest. It was quick, chaste.

Barely a second later, he pulled back, searching her eyes.

"Good night," she told him, not knowing what he was trying to find on her face.

"Good night, Miss Rose Tyler," he said graciously as he stepped out of the flat.

Then he abruptly turned back just as she was closing the door, tilting his head to look at her quizzically. "Just tell me one thing," he said.

"What?" she asked warily.

"That friend of yours—the one you can't seem to get over—what was his name?"

She paused in her inching the door closed and stared at him mutely. How had he deduced that? Perhaps his mum had told him? It wasn't possible that the Tabloids had gotten hold of information like that, was it?

"Call it a hunch," he grinned, once again reading her mind just by looking at her face.

Rose shook her head disbelievingly, but couldn't help but answer.

"His name was the Doctor," she said softly, her voice sounding thick in her own ears. She cleared her throat of the emotion that had suddenly filled it.

"Night, Hunter."

He nodded his greeting before strolling off.

Rose closed the door swiftly after he left. She couldn't bring herself to move any further though, and instead remained with her back leaning against the barrier. She closed her eyes and blew out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of her predicament weighing down on her.

These were the facts: She was trying to get back to the Doctor. She wouldn't stop trying to get back to him until she was— well— back.

Quite obviously, that daft alien had done something to her heart in her time with him—changed it, rebooted it—and now, suddenly, she found that she was incapable of feeling a certain way about another person if their name wasn't the Doctor. She was unable to even be attracted to anyone else without the most horrible guilt washing over her the moment she was.

That was what she was experiencing now.

Hunter Remington was a decent person. More than, actually. It had to be said that he was wealthy and powerful and famous and all those nice, shiny things, but what he also was, was caring and kind and a _good person._

He cared about her, for some reason. They'd only properly met at the restaurant on their first date, having only shared a few passing glances in the past, and yet he'd been fully willing to sit for as long as it took, listening to her rambling on about her troubles. He'd put his own feelings on the backburner, because he knew that she was hurting.

And that was so very much like something the Doctor would do.

It was all very confusing. Really, really confusing. She couldn't even believe that she was actually contemplating it at all, but there she was; wondering whether it would be easier to stop running after someone so far out of her reach and to settle for someone right in front of her.

She didn't even realise that she'd been moving until Rose heard the soft _swish _of the zipper on her purse slide open. She stuck her hand inside the bag and shuffled things around for a moment, finally pulling out the small piece of tech she had salvaged from the DET hanger that day.

Her old cell phone.

No one knew that she'd taken it. Well, by now they probably knew, especially Mickey who knew her well enough to come to expect something like this from her, but no one had called her in a state of panic demanding for it back thus far, so she reckoned she ought to be safe.

She dialled one hundred on the small phone and then proceeded to lift it to her ear. Pathetic as it was, she just really needed to hear the sound of his voice. She needed to remind herself that he was real, alive and out there. That there still was a Doctor to get back to, no matter how much doubt she might be experiencing.

She was just about to go into her voicemail archives, listen to his voicemails for the thousandth time, when another sound made her heart come to a complete standstill.

She couldn't have heard that correctly. That just wasn't possible.

She waited for the automated voice on the other side of the line to go through its entire list of instructions on button numerals and their functions, until it finally stopped. Then, it repeated the impossible words.

"You have one new voice message," it said.

She didn't waste any time. The adrenaline coursing through her contributed to the speed with which she pushed the button on the phone that would play the message back to her. As she listened to the few seconds preceding the message, she could hear her frantic heart palpitations.

Then, someone spoke.

"Rose," the measured voice said. It belonged to a woman, but not the one from before. This voice had no Scottish accent or confused attitude. This voice was calm, assured and strangely familiar.

"My name's Samantha. You haven't met me yet, but you will. Sorry, can't say much more about that, I'm afraid," she took a deep breath, "Listen, I've figured it out. It took longer than I expected—which is odd, seeing as I'm a genius and all—but I got around to it. What I'm trying to say, Rose, and I know this might sound odd to you right now, is that you can trust me. I need you to understand that when you meet me; you can confide in me. And, to prove that to you, I'm going to tell you something—"

She listened. As the woman on the other side of the line spoke, Rose felt her eyes go wide and her mouth pop open into a little "o" of surprise.

"I know this must be a lot to take in," Samantha was saying. She gave a weak chuckle, "Or I know that it is for me, at least. But—"

A sudden crash sounded in the background of wherever Samantha was, followed by a loud scream.

A very cold, hard shudder ran up Rose's spine as she heard the sound of it. She knew who _that _voice belonged to.

It was hers.

"Rose!" someone else shouted on the other side of the line. A man.

"No!" Samantha shouted loudly.

There was a crash. Then a bang. Then a chorus of screams.

Then the line went dead.

"You have no new voice messages," the automated voice announced.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: As promised, here's the long-awaited next chapter to this fic! Sorry it took so long… life happened and all that. Just a quick heads-up: If you haven't noticed yet, a certain character from my other fic **_**Stranger**_** just popped up in this one as well. Yes, you guessed it, these two fics are inexorably linked across time and space! They'll be running in accordance two each other for a while, so I'd recommend you go read the other one as well if you haven't already.**

**Okay, I'm leaving you be now. Hope you like this chapter! :)**

…

Mickey's eyes widened as Samantha said the words. Even standing a few feet from him as Rose was, she could also hear it. A small bout of terror once again seized her heart as the screams and bangs started up and died down in quick succession.

When it was all over, Mickey lifted the phone from his ear and stared at it in disbelief for a few seconds. Then he turned the expression on Rose and stared at her for a few seconds more.

Rose just nodded. "We need to find them," she told him, and she was surprised at how level and calm her voice sounded.

Quite obviously, her composure wasn't carrying over to Mickey's emotional state.

"That's—that's just impossible!" he gasped, setting the phone down as though it were some sort of dangerous animal, "I mean how did she—and was that—and is she—?"

Rose waited calmly for all the emotions to play out. She'd been through exactly the same thing the previous evening, but when she'd woken up this morning, it was with a new-found determination. She'd legged it to headquarters as fast as she could after that, and she'd found Mickey in the DET hangar not long after. They were currently standing in an abandoned corner of said space.

Rose nodded again. "You know who she is," she said seriously, "And Mickey, we need to find her as quick as possible. We need to find a way through to her. Preferably in the very near future."

Mickey tried to get his breathing under control as best he could. "Yeah," he agreed slowly, lifting a hand to his chest and feeling the rapid beats of his heart, "Yeah, 'course we should. But," his gaze turned confused, "Rose, you were already there."

He still didn't understand, then.

Rose had come to expect as much from most people over the time that she'd spent alone. Seeing as she was one of the only known time travellers in existence in this universe, and by far the most experienced, many a question had been thrown her way on just how exactly it all worked. She'd been able to answer some, too, seeing as the Doctor had begun to teach her about it just before she got lost, but she was by no means qualified to explain _everything_. She wasn't the Doctor, though she liked to pretend to be on occasion, and her explanations of certain things tended to become rather—tangled up.

She resolved to at least try. "Exactly," she told him, "And that's why we need to find them as soon as possible, because me being there when she leaves me the message means that I got the message at this point in time and was prompted by it to reach that point in time where I'm present. And, seeing as I know about me being there then now, I have to be there then otherwise it might create a paradox, which would be very, very bad."

Judging by the look Mickey gave her, she might as well have been speaking Greek.

"Look," she said hastily, "The point is that _that_," she nodded towards the phone, "Is my future. And it's in jeopardy. And—and—if she is who I think she is—" she trailed off for a moment, thinking again on just how massive a revelation this sudden new future of hers really was. She gritted her teeth at the thought of anyone trying to threaten it.

"Mickey, that means that my _family_ is in jeopardy."

"So you really think that she's your kid, then?" he asked her quietly.

Rose felt butterflies flourish in her stomach as the words were said out loud. "Sounds just like me," she said just as quietly, not meeting his gaze, "And all those things she said—"

Mickey knew the question had to be brought to the forefront eventually. He took a deep breath and just got it over with.

"And the dad?"

She looked up then, meeting his gaze evenly. She was good at doing that, Rose. All her training with Torchwood and dealing with her personal heartbreak had taught her to school her emotions and create a perfect mask of indifference in the face of nearly any situation. If Mickey didn't know her as well as he did, he would never have caught the flash of the complicated underlying emotions that his question evoked.

Pain, longing, sadness—

Hope.

"I can't even think about that right now," she said flatly.

Mickey wasn't going to let it go that easily. "You reckon it may be him though, right?" he inquired softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

God, it hurt to think about something like that. The entire previous evening through, as she'd connected the dots in her mind, she'd deliberately avoided that line of thought. She'd expressly forbidden herself to go anywhere near _that_.

No, not even now. She just—couldn't. If she permitted herself to hope in that degree, the disappointment of not having such a future realised might just crush her.

She stepped around an answer to Mickey's question—kind of. "That man that shouted in the background," she frowned in concentration, trying to recall the memory, "I think I've heard his voice before."

"Oh?"

Rose nodded with certainty. "I think it's the same voice I heard when we made the trans-dimensional call yesterday," her heart rate picked up as she came to the realisation while she spoke, "I think it may have been the Doctor. I think he may have—regenerated."

And then the colour drained from her face as another thought struck her.

"We got through," she whispered, her voice sounding strangled, "We got through and I—I slammed the phone in that woman's ear before I could even speak to him. Oh God, Mickey, he was right there and I didn't even realise!"

She'd started shaking like a leaf and Mickey put his arms around her fully, pulling her against his chest. He rubbed circles on her back. "Hey, listen, you couldn't have known. You couldn't have known, Rose," he chanted as he felt the sobs racking her body.

She was having a complete information overload. She'd probably been in a state of shock from hearing the message, and she hadn't even realised.

The detas were starting to stare and Mickey decided that it was time he took Rose somewhere more private. With his arm still around her, he accompanied her out of the hangar and upstairs to her office.

Thankfully, Mindy was out at the moment. He placed Rose in the chair by her desk and headed to the kettle to make her a cup of tea.

"Thanks," Rose muttered as she took the cup of warm liquid from him a few minutes later.

Mickey pulled up Mindy's desk chair, manoeuvring it so that he was facing Rose. He eyed her carefully, taking in her tear-streaked cheeks and assessing whether they should continue their conversation.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, guessing at what his problem was.

Mickey looked at her dubiously. "Just had a breakdown out of the blue ten minutes ago and now you're completely fine?"

Rose sighed. "It was just—a lot to take in," she answered, bringing the cup of tea to her lips but not quite taking a sip, "I didn't allow myself to process it all last night. I mean, I recognised the voice even then, and I think part of me knew the moment I heard it in Samantha's voicemail who it was, but it was just—too much."

She took a gulp of tea then. A long one. When she was done, her eyes were on the remaining contents of her cup, watching the light-brown liquid sloshing around and breathing in the warmth of the tea that wafted into her face. She closed her eyes, momentarily doing away with her worries.

A good cup of tea could make almost any bad situation better.

"So what do we do now?" Mickey brought her back to her present woes.

Rose shook her head, setting the cup down on her desk. "Well, I think right now we just have to keep doing what we're doing. I'm not gonna be able to help anyone while I'm stuck in the wrong universe."

"And because you were there when Samantha recorded the message, you think we're gonna succeed any day now?" Mickey clarified.

"We haven't got any better ideas," she shrugged her shoulders, though a part of her fretted whether the static state of her plan would impair its completion time. She didn't like the idea of actually being the one to create the paradox in the first place because of her blind faith in the universe. She looked at Mickey again, formulating additional strategies, "Tell you what we'll do in the meantime, though."

"I'm listening," Mickey said, recognising her game-face.

Rose gave a small, sly smile. "We hit redial."


End file.
